


ribecage tides

by dreamclub



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Beach fun, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, almost kisses, also brief alcohol use but Brief, jeno n jaem are like the twins from the shining but in a fun way, mark sings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamclub/pseuds/dreamclub
Summary: With everyone gone, Mark’s mind began to calm from the chaos and drift to more stressful things. Open mic night at Sand Stage, the way Hyuck’s arms looked in the ‘I flexed and my sleeves fell off’ shirt Mark had bought him, how he was going to survive going back to school… The list of worries was long enough to stretch from the shoreline to the horizon.





	ribecage tides

**Author's Note:**

> i cant wait for summer, thus this was born. i love it, even if i wrote it relatively quickly!!
> 
> comments motivate me to write, and they make me so so happy, so feel free to comment ur thoughts!! as well as any (gentle) criticism! i thrive on attention <3
> 
> i hope you enjooooy!

Aside from the soft crash of waves breaking on the sand and the crackle of the bonfire, Mark’s backyard was remarkably quiet. A quiet seldom achieved when Hyuck was around. Closing his eyes, Mark rested his head against the back of his favorite beach chair, solo cup dangling from his hand.

Most of his friends had left around half an hour ago, once the sky started to turn the watery black that suggested morning was approaching. Their summer jobs at various boardwalk stores didn’t require them to be up too early, but they had to rise before the afternoon or they’d be replaced with one of the million summer-breakers eager to score quick cash.

Donghyuck stuck around. He had no obligations until late night, and as such was free to unrelentlessly pester Mark. Not that he minded.

With everyone gone, Mark’s mind began to calm from the chaos and drift to more stressful things. Open mic night at Sand Stage, the way Hyuck’s arms looked in the ‘I flexed and my sleeves fell off’ shirt Mark had bought him, how he was going to survive going back to school… The list of worries was long enough to stretch from the shoreline to the horizon.

“Boo,” Hyuck’s high-pitched voice came from behind him, startling him out of his haze. Then ice-cold water ran down his neck, soaking his t-shirt and leaving a puddle in the waistband of his board shorts.

“I’m going to drown you,” Mark threatened, but the effect was ruined by his matted-down hair. In fact, he looked a lot like a wet puppy. Hyuck told him as much.

Of course, that led Mark to leap up and begin to chase Hyuck, bare feet against the loose sand. Hyuck discarded the bucket he’d been holding and started to run, laughing so loud that Mark was worried his parents would hear it from inside.

Neither of the boys were especially athletic, their physical prowess extending to riding their bikes down the boardwalks and occasionally surfing, so the chase seemed destined to end quickly and tragically. After a moment of thinking, Mark circled back to the bonfire and swooped an ice-cold bottle of water from the cooler. Loose chunks of ice fell to the sand.

Hyuck, eyes wide with terror, ran with renewed vigor away. Mark edged carefully around the bonfire and then caught up, frantically attempting to open the bottle while struggling against the hilly sand. By the time he caught up with Hyuck, who was panting with exertion, he still hadn’t managed to unscrew the lid. Which was bad. Very bad.

Donghyuck gave up on running, instead trying to wrestle the bottle away from him, laughing all the while. Mark, still damp from the miniature shower he’d been given, pressed a wet palm to Hyuck’s cheek, attempingto get him to back up. Hyuck kicked his knee lightly in retaliation. Mark entwined his free arm through Hyuck’s elbow, holding on to the back of his arm, the curve of his shoulderblade.

If he was going down, Hyuck was going with him. 

Mark made a lot of split-second decisions, but that had to be one of his worst ones. Within seconds, he was laying flat on his back, breath knocked out of him from the fall. Hyuck kneeled above him, though he’d been able to catch himself with his arms.

In a feeble attempt to diffuse the situation, Mark desperately grabbed for the water bottle that had rolled _just_ out of his grasp. Hyuck caught on. Another bad decision. Quick as a striking snake, he grabbed both of Mark’s slim wrists and trapped his arms above his head.

Moonlight bathed Hyuck in cool blue, a halo of light around his damp hair. He smelled like sea salt and bonfire smoke. Slowly, a scared look in his eye, he leaned down down down until Mark could feel his breath on his cheek.

A leg rested on either side of his thighs, caging him in, pinning him down. Hyuck closed his eyes and kept leaning in, a hair's width away, and when Mark leaned back all he was met with was hard, unforgiving sand. Packed in tight by the waves.

Water brushed his ankle. Everything slowed down, and when Hyuck was nearly close enough to his lips for there to be irreparable damage done, Mark’s brain caught up with his body.

“I’m nervous,” he blurted, somehow still a whisper, quiet among the crashing of the waves.

“For what?” Hyuck questioned, moving back like he hadn’t just been in kissing distance of Mark. Like he’d just been slapped. Or woken up from a disorientating nap.

Mark wanted to say that he didn’t know. That maybe it was a mixture of everything. That maybe he was nervous because he _wasn’t_ nervous that his best friend was about to kiss him. Actually, judging by the pace of his heart and the heat he felt in his cheeks, he was anticipating it.

“Open mic night,” he choked out, and Hyuck released the loose grip he had on his wrists, rolled off of him like it was nothing.

Side by side, they laid in the sand. Hyuck’s thigh touched his, and the smooth skin of his forearm pressing against Mark’s. That was it. Two points of contact. They might as well have been spooning.

“You’re going to do great,” he said, oddly gentle and reassuring, “besides, everyone is practically in love with you anyway. You could go up there and yodel and they’d clap.”

“Really?” Mark breathed, hoping it was true. Because Hyuck was included in the whole _everyone_ deal, wasn’t he?

Hyuck rolled over so he was looking at Mark. “Really. I’m the only one with enough confidence to boo you off of that stage.”

Mark would’ve been more hurt if Hyuck didn’t inch his hand over until his pinkie was loosely on top of Mark’s. Above them, the stars seemed to spin. Mark tightened the grip between their pinkie fingers, an unknown promise being made.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Jaemin looked very peaceful in the golden hour light, ice cream from Beach Treats dripping it’s way slowly down his tanned arm. Too peaceful.

“Donghyuck almost kissed me,” Mark said, just as a way to shatter the peace. He could be chaotic, at times. And Jaemin always made the best shocked faces.

“Hmmngh?” he said around the lump of cookie dough in his mouth. Mark tried not to laugh, and instead nodded solemnly.

“Yeah, after you all left the bonfire? It was kind of nice, but really scary, too,” he rambled, “and you can’t tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?” Hyuck asked, sneaking up on Mark even though every board on the ancient boardwalk squeaked like one more storm would blow it over for good.

“That I’m Mark’s favorite friend,” Jaemin smiled proudly. It was better than the truth, which Mark was sure would be a lot more awkward than the five minute squabble that ensued over who was his favorite.  
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵  
Later that night, Hyuck peered at him over a solo cup of Malibu and cranberry juice, eyes half shut against the too-bright porch light. Mark’s hoodie swallowed him whole, nighttime blue, hood up around his head.  
“Is Jaem really your favorite friend?” he only stumbled slightly over his words.

Mark, substantially less drunk, barely even buzzed, really, sobered up immediately at the question. Because yeah, actually, Jaemin _was_ his favorite friend. But Hyuck was his favorite person, even if he couldn’t fit neatly into the ‘friend’ box. Somehow, that didn’t seem like the right answer.

He took a sip of his drink before replying as vaguely as possible, “You’re all my favorite friend,”

Sloppily, Hyuck lurched forward, all the way until Mark could smell the coconut alcohol on his breath, his own cologne on the hoodie, “Tell me, Mark.”

“Fine. Come closer.”

Hyuck leaned in.

“Closer.”

Wobbling precariously, he leaned in even more, putting both arms around Mark, one hand on either side of the wooden railing. His cup balanced just-barely in his shaking hand.

“You really want to know my favorite friend?”

“Yeeeees!” Hyuck whined, close enough to Mark’s ear that it both hurt and made him shiver from the heat on his exposed neck. The breeze was kind of cold without his hoodie. Hyuck had left him exposed when he stole his sweatshirt. He’d left him exposed many times before.

“Fine,” Mark said, leaning in until his lips were brushing against Hyuck’s ear. Pretending to not feel the way Hyuck shivered at his words, he whispered, “Your mom.”

Hyuck tried to hide his laughter, but his chest was pressed against Mark’s, and he could feel the way he shook. Music filtered in from outside. Flamingo-shaped string lights glitter above them. Fireworks went off at one of the distant beach houses.

Content, Mark wrapped his arms around Hyuck’s waist, pulling him in for a hug. Then Hyuck spilled his entire drink down Mark’s back.  
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Jeno and Jaemin were competing on the motorcycle racing games when Mark decided to drop the bomb. The loud, dim atmosphere of the arcade was the best place to do it, because he could always go hide in the throngs of kids if one of them responded oddly.

“I wrote a song for Hyuck and I’m going to perform it at the open mic,” Mark said, all in one breath. 

Both Jeno and Jaemin crashed their motorcycles simultaneously, turning around to stare open-mouthed at Mark in frightening synchronicity. 

“You what?” Jeno questioned, looking concerned for Mark’s mental well-being.

At the same time, Jaemin said, “Is it good?”

“I wrote a song for our friend Donghyuck, you know, the fiesty one with the soft hair? The one we’ve known for years?” Mark deadpanned to Jeno, who still looked concerned that he had been body-swapped, “And yes. It is good.”

“And you’re sure?

“Jeno, they’ve practically been dating for the last three years. It’s about time one of them does something.”

Mark decided both of his friends were idiots.

While they continued to bicker over whether or not Mark should publicly display his affection for Hyuck, he stole a roll of Jeno’s quarters and made his way to the claw machines. A stuffed animal should soften the blow when Renjun found out he hadn’t been the first to know about the song.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

From when he wrote it all the way up until he was backstage, ten minutes from performing it, the song seemed like a good idea. A great one, even. Tension had been building up between him and Donghyuck for months, and he was beginning to wonder if they’d explode if they didn’t kiss soon.

It felt mutual. He _hoped_ it was mutual.

Donghyuck insisted on staying back to hype him up, which pretty much consisted of telling him he’d never speak to him again if he did poorly and embarrassed him on stage. This strange display of affection was mixed with compliments on his guitar playing, which Mark practiced as best he could.

Aside from his nerves, everything was going smoothly. No clouds marred the perfectly blue sky, all of his friends had scored front-row seats, and the acts before him were mediocre at best. Not that he liked to judge. Just that for the sake of his confidence, he needed to convince himself that he was just as capable, if not more, of performing.

“I’m proud of you, Mark,” Hyuck said, soft, voice almost lost in the chaos of the backstage area. 

“Yeah?” he said, because he wasn’t sure this was real. 

Hyuck grabbed his hand, gentle, unlike himself. He had always been good at judging when Mark needed calmness, even though those moments were few and far between. “You’re incredibly talented, and it takes a lot to perform. So yeah, I’m proud. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I’m telling everyone,”

“Don’t make me boo you off that stage!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I so would. Even if Jaemin killed me for it.”

Then the last act before him went on stage, parting the large curtain that blew just barely in the breeze. Hyuck squinted against the sun, a smile playing on the edges of his mouth.

“I’m gonna go sit, front row, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You know where to look, right?”

Mark can always find him in a crowd, so in a line of seats it shouldn’t be too hard. The awful part would be looking at him while singing a song meant for him. Dedicated to him. “Of course.”

After running through his song one final time, murmuring the words to the melody, he was up. 

“Coming up next is Mark Lee, with an original song called Rental,” the announcer, his friend Mina, called into the mic. 

He counted to five, and then pushed through the curtain. Hyuck was, as promised, sitting front row, along with the rest of their group. In their lap, they were holding little signs that spelled out his name. Hyuck’s had little hearts on it, while the rest were just glittery letters. His heart warmed, both with nerves and love. Mostly nerves.

Despite the crowd full of beach chairs, picnic benches, and towels staring up at him, it was those hearts that frightened him most.

Hyuck gave him a little wave, which he barely saw through the mixture of sun and panicked haze in his eyes. Then he began to strum his guitar, leaning in as close to the mic as he could without getting feedback. Closing his eyes, he swayed slightly to the rhythm, the instrumental backing track he’d made beginning to play over the speakers.

Rental was something he’d written in one sitting, shortly after Hyuck had kissed him. It was a confession, but only one Hyuck would understand; they’d met at the boardwalk bike renting center, back when Mark was seven and had broken his bike by forgetting to put up the kickstand and letting it fall off of the boardwalk, onto the concrete walking path below.

Hyuck had been there too, and they argued over who would get the last blue child-sized bike until their parents walked up and reigned them both in. It turned out their mothers knew each other, so they set off to get lunch. From then on, they’d been pretty much inseparable.

Timestamps of their relationship were touched on throughout the song, from sandcastles to ferris wheel rides to bonfires. 

“Don’t return my rental heart,” Mark finished strong, the music fading out until he could hear the clapping over the rush in his ears.

Finally, he looked at Hyuck, who was staring at him with a smile so wide, yet tentative, that it was as unstable as the sandcastles they’d build on the shoreline at rising tide. A rush against time, waiting to see if it would get knocked over before it was completed. Unsure.

Jeno and Jaemin stood in unison, leading to the rest of the crowd giving him a standing ovation as well. He barely registered it, instead staring at Hyuck. Renjun, who had learned of the plan eventually, nudged Hyuck with his elbow. Then Mark disappeared backstage.  
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵  
In a great stroke of luck, Mark won the grand prize, a summer of one free cone a day from Beach Treats, as well as a few coupons from various stores around the boardwalk. In a great stroke of misfortune, he’d been too overwhelmed by people congratulating him that he couldn’t break away from the crowd and find Donghyuck. 

He’d gladly trade ice cream for a way to quell the nervous tide in his stomach, like the ocean lapping against his ribcage and making him seasick on dry land.

“Hey,” Hyuck said behind him, once again employing his quiet stepping. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“Um, sure,” Mark said, once his heart calmed down from the jumpscare. A walk sounded terrifying, actually, because he was pretty sure that no matter what happened, his life would be changed. Hyuck’s, too. Their friend group’s dynamic would change completely.

Once again, terrifying.

After a few moments of walking, Mark’s heartbeat louder than the waves breaking against the shore, Hyuck swung the back of his hand so it hit Mark’s.

“Pretty sunset,” Mark mumbled, the silence becoming so unnerving it was more uncomfortable than the sand he’d kicked onto the backs of his legs.

“Was that song about me?” Hyuck suddenly stopped walking, voice demanding. Cutting right to the chase.

Mark debated saying no, and then jumping into the ocean to get eaten by a shark, or to find a cute merman boyfriend that wouldn’t be as terrifying as Lee Donghyuck.

“No,” he blurted, because his brain wasn’t connected to his brain. Hyuck raised an eyebrow, expectant and a little hurt. “It’s for my other friend, um, Duck.”

“Duck? Well, he sounds very handsome and funny,” Hyuck leaned closer to Mark, only his eyes giving away his joy.

“He is.”

“And talented, supportive, and impeccably dressed,” he continued, inching closer.

“Yes.”

“Sounds like he’s a real catch,” Hyuck finally smiled.

“He is. He would be.”

“Oh, I bet,” he said, “But I bet he couldn’t do this as well as me.”

With that, Hyuck finally leaned all the way in, connecting their lips and winding his arms around Mark’s thin waist. At first, it was soft, as gentle as the water lapping at their feet, but when Mark didn’t pull away he applied a little more force.

The kiss tasted like lemonade. Like water after a day on the beach. Winning the grand prize at the arcade lottery drawing. The drop of a roller coaster. Like happiness. Finality.

Mark smiled against his lips, and carded his own fingers through Hyuck’s hair. They broke apart, grinning too hard to kiss, and rested their foreheads together.


End file.
